There is, however, a more fundamental and effective source at which to study

naturalness--a trait which, once lost, is shy of recapture: that source is the

common conversation of any well-bred circle. _This_ is the standard we strive to

reach on both stage and platform--with certain differences, of course, which

will appear as we go on. If speaker and actor were to reproduce with absolute

fidelity every variation of utterance--every whisper, grunt, pause, silence, and

explosion--of conversation as we find it typically in everyday life, much of the

interest would leave the public utterance. Naturalness in public address is

something more than faithful reproduction of nature--it is the reproduction of

those _typical_ parts of nature's work which are truly representative of the

whole.

 

The realistic story-writer understands this in writing dialogue, and we must

take it into account in seeking for naturalness through change of tempo.

 

Suppose you speak the first of the following sentences in a slow tempo, the

second quickly, observing how natural is the effect. Then speak both with the

same rapidity and note the difference.

 

I can't recall what I did with my knife. Oh, now I remember I gave it to Mary.

 

We see here that a change of tempo often occurs in the same sentence--for tempo

applies not only to single words, groups of words, and groups of sentences, but

to the major parts of a public speech as well.